One Night
by Atheus the World Traveler
Summary: It's been four years since the Cell Games, and almost everyone has gone back to living their day-to-day lives. But when a teenage boy, weighed down by his own guilt, and a blonde woman, whose past had begun to haunt her, meet up one night on the anniversary of that hell day, their lives will be forever changed.


**Been a while. Almost seven months, in fact. Things happen, motivation for this died, returned, then died again. But now I'm back with a new first chapter, a plan from beginning to end instead of vague dated notes, and a Beta. Now, let's get to the story.**

**Beta - **OjOrangejuiceofthewild

**Cover Art - **AR-UA Lineart and Coloring of Saeki Shun's drawing (That's a mouthful and yes, I did copy this from my first chapter one)

**Chapter 1 - Hero**

* * *

"This is..."

Gohan stood under the burning sunlight, atop an arena from his past. He was older, taller too, with his hair now shorter and standing up instead of sticking out in every direction. Instead of the training gi he wore nowadays in memory of his late father, Gohan adorn the violet Demon Clothes from all those years ago.

The teen looked around him, taking in the familiar scenery—a stone arena, carved by a monster's hands, four spires at each corner. Beyond them, the wilderness and wasteland. It all felt surreal. The sight, the smell. Even the gentle breeze that caressed his skin. It was calmer than it had been on that day.

Breaking up the serenity, Gohan jumped back as a ki blast exploded where he had been. Tearing through the arena and kicking up rubble as a smokescreen. The dust faded to reveal one of his father's old friends, dressed for combat, but his gi sporting tears all over, blood leaking through the material. Dark hair fell over his eyes as the man's scarred face narrowed at Gohan.

"You let us suffer."

Gohan flinched, surprised by the sudden declaration. Made them suffer? When? How?!

A disc of energy missed him, as the teen ducked away from the familiar technique at the last minute. He saw Krillin to his right, also bleeding from severe injuries. Panting, and seeming to be able to hold himself up barely.

"When you didn't kill Cell!" the bald monk answered his unasked question. "When you wouldn't use your power to end him!"

_But I did!_ Gohan wanted to scream, but no words came out. He had killed Cell. He had been the one to end the Cell Games.

"No brat," the Prince said, armor broke and his injuries present for all to see. "Not the first time. The creature blew himself up! But he didn't stay dead, all because you couldn't be bothered to end him yourself. And do you know what that thing did when he came back?"

Gohan turned to find himself face-to-face with Vegeta's lavender-haired son, battle-worn, and his eyes had lost their light. A hole where his heart was pierced through by the android's beam.

"He killed me," Trunk's answered his father's question. "Why, Gohan? Why did you let me die? Why did we have to be tormented because you wouldn't act?"

"W – We brought you back," Gohan defended. A punch in the gut was his reward, as spittle fell from the teen's mouth.

"But, I still died!" Trunk's roared. "_You_ let me die!"

Before he could reply, the older half-Saiyan was swatted away as a pale hand attached to a green monster collided with Trunk's cheek. Gohan stared up the creature, the thing that had caused so much pain and destruction. All with a smile on its face. Its other hand wrapped around the throat of his mentor—violet lifeblood flowing from his mouth.

"Go... han..." the Namekian choked out. That was all he could get out, casting a hateful glare towards his protege before Cell threw him away into a cliffside.

"You monster!" Gohan threw a punch out, caught by the thing he desired to kill again.

"I'm the monster?" Cell chuckled. "Wasn't it you who didn't wish to fight? Too afraid of your power? Or was it that you wanted to a hero?"

The teen's eyes widened in shock, Cell letting go of his fist as the Saiyan stumbled back, "N-No."

"Oh, yes," it continued. "The stakes just weren't high enough, were they. I could destroy the world, but that wasn't _real_ enough for you. No, it wasn't enough. You _needed _to see your friends in pain, to agonize against a foe that outclassed them. All so you could be the savior."

"That's not... I would never put my friends' lives in danger!"

Cell's grin grew larger, "But you did. You wouldn't fight. You held back. All until their bodies were beaten and broken. At the last moment, the messiah descended to save those who could not save themselves."

"And even then, you had to drag it out," it continued. "All that power, in the hands of a child. You wanted me to suffer -to feel like you were on top of the world. To show that everyone else was below the golden god."

"No!" Gohan cried.

"Yes!" Cell laughed. "You wanted me not just beaten, but broken. But you just couldn't finish it, could you? The mighty god played too long with his toy and put the very planet he was meant to protect in danger! And who had to come to _your _rescue?"

Cell began to shrink in size, form morphing to one with even more familiarity. The protrusions from the monster's head receded, in their place, a mop of messy black hair. White skin gained color, and an orange turtle school gi replaced the green form. Tears began to trickle down Gohan's eyes.

"Me," his father said. "It was me that had to deal with Cell."

"Dad," the teen cried.

"It was me that had to make the sacrifice," Goku went on, stepping toward his shaking son. "It was me that had to take Cell away from Earth. It was me who died when Cell self-destructed. It _is _me who can't see his wife again or meet a son who will never know his father!"

"Dad, please. I never-"

"Wanted any of this to happen?" his father interrupted. "None of us did! But it was you that could have finished it. That could kill him! You didn't."

Goku cupped his hands together, blue energy coalesced in the center, "And then, in the end, with Cell destroyed, you were praised, praised for the pain of your friends. The sacrifice of a parent. The saving of a world you almost let be destroyed."

Held at his side, the energy grew. "You're not a hero."

Gohan tried to move, tried to run. His legs were heavy, and he could only watch in horror as his father, who's face was like thunder, every bit of his anger aimed at the one who let him die.

"No, dad!" Gohan sobbed, choking out panicked gasps and heart-broken remorse. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"You're a monster!"

* * *

"Don't!"

Gohan bolted upright as tears flowed down his cheeks. Breaths came out short and quick as he looked around the room—the numbers on his digital clock shining zero thirty-seven, the only light in the darkness. Gohan breathed a sigh, letting his upper body fall back onto the mattress. A nightmare. That's all it had been. His racing heart began to slow as he reminded himself of the words his father had once said.

"_I'm proud of you."_

He repeated those words to himself like a mantra. The teen hadn't let his friends suffer to be a hero. He hadn't let his father die for vanity. He wasn't a monster.

Gohan's eyes began to dry up as he recounted after the Cell games. How Yamcha had returned to his baseball team. Krillin's first date with Android Eighteen and how flustered he was. When Piccolo would check up on him, the Namekian would always say it was to make sure Gohan wasn't getting lazy, as the teen had taken up the role of Earth's protector, but the Saiyan knew that his mentor was worried he'd work himself too hard.

And hadn't that been a fun conversation with his mom? Telling Chi-Chi that Gohan had decided to continue training had been met with the fierce woman yelling at him about his studies. That he should leave the fighting to the others, and how his only worries should be getting into a good university and marrying a nice girl. The underlining problem, she wouldn't say, but it had been clear as day. She didn't want him to die too. Goku had been a fighter, always was, and always would be. His mother knew and loved that about him, but he had died because of it. He would seek out new challenges and save the world in the process. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she just wanted her family to be safe. Her husband dying hurt, but to see her child go would be devastating.

Gohan had finally gotten through to her. He told her that he needed to be strong, not just for Earth, but for her. For his younger sibling on their way. So he could protect everything important to him. His mother relented, though not without a few conditions.

The first being that Gohan had to keep up with his studies. Easy enough. Next was not to go looking for trouble at every opportunity. Once again, an easy condition to fulfill. Gohan may have been half Saiyan, but he wasn't very warrior-like. He _didn't_ like fighting. If there were a peaceful solution, he'd find it. He'd only fight if there were no other options.

Bojack showing up a month after the Cell Games was a fluke and not his fault.

The third condition, however, was what made the teen groan. Never let it be said Chi-Chi didn't expect the best from her children; if Gohan were going to keep training, he would have a training partner that could push him to his limits and beyond. As such, a quick call to Bulma and Gohan was on the fast-track to many play dates with Vegeta.

The _Prince_ had not been all that thrilled about the idea of training with Gohan. To the point that after every threat Bulma could think of -not repairing the gravity machine, having only half of his usual meal's worth fixed- didn't work. In the end, it wasn't Bulma, but Chi-Chi who had talked him into it. If Gohan could ascend to a higher form than either he or Goku by a year's worth of training, what could Vegeta accomplish by training with Gohan for several? Needless to say, Vegeta became very interested after that, and Gohan would head back home every night sorer than the one prior.

For the last four years, life had become a routine. Helping around the house and with Goten. Studying for college exams that he wouldn't be taking for another three years or so. Training with Vegeta almost every day. The full-blooded Saiyan had come close to ascension a few times, which only gave him more of a drive. Another thing that happened often-

"Gohan?" - was his little brother coming into his room in the middle of the night. The light from the hall revealed Goten's small form.

The teen grinned at him, "Hey squirt. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

The smaller Saiyan took some small steps into the room, "I heard you screaming."

Gohan froze. Usually, when Goten came into his room, it was because the boy had had a nightmare or wanted to hear more of his big brother's adventures when he was younger. But now, Gohan had woke him up due to his fitful sleep. With Goten near his bed, Gohan could see the boy's concern in the dimly lit room. Despite how young he was, a little over three years old, he was as kind as the man he resembled.

The teen laughed it off, "Sorry about that, Goten. Mine and Trunks' dad's training got a little more out of hand before I got home. He can be a real nightmare."

Goten didn't need to worry about his problems. No one did really, but especially not his little brother. And mentioning Trunks was a for sure way to distract the kid.

"Do you think mom will let me go with you to play with Trunks tomorrow?!"

His little brother beamed. He and Trunks were the closest of friends, almost inseparable. Funny considering how antagonistic Vegeta had been to their father. But, Gohan guessed the two older Saiyans were close in their own way. Gohan looked over to his clock, the date shining underneath the time. He smiled to himself, hollow if anyone looked to close, before looking back to Goten.

"You know, I think she might," he told Goten. "But not if you don't get your sleep. You'd be too tired to play."

With a quick word of goodnight, Goten was out the door. Gohan laughed to himself at the sight of the young boy's excitement. With one more glance to the clock, the teen laid back down as well. No wonder he had that nightmare again. It was _that _day after all.

* * *

"Just one date. I promise you won't regret it."

Eighteen sighed, shifting some strands of her blonde locks behind her left ear and reminding her self for the umpteenth time that killing this man would be more trouble than it was worth. He had been a repeat customer for a few weeks now, using the word customer in the lightest sense. If she was honest, the man was coming to annoy her. Harass was the words her co-workers had used, but that would require the guy to be intimidating.

He stood shorter than her, his head meeting her shoulders, and was relatively thin. Dark brown hair combed down, matching the color of his eyes. The man continued to smile at the blonde with what she was sure he believed to be charming. In a way, it was. Eighteen felt her fist was very attracted to his face.

She sighed again, "I'm already regretting this conversation. Now stop bothering me."

Eighteen had already been lenient with this guy. Melody, her manager, had offered multiple times to bar him from the store. That sounded even more annoying since the nuisance would no doubt continue to come, forcing the police. As for the law... Waking up had been a surprise. Having the mission to kill Goku stripped from her even more so. She felt that she could be forgiven for some theft and a little destruction of property. A girl needed money and a change of clothes after all.

They disagreed.

A hand grasped her arm as Eighteen turned to get back to finishing up some last-minute work, her shift ending in a short while. The blond looked around to see the man no longer smiling.

"You listen to me," he demanded. "I've come here for weeks. Gave you _my_ time, and-"

"And wasted _mine_," Eighteen finished. She removed the hand that held her as she forced his arm behind his back. A swift stomp on the back of his knee had him knelt in front of the blonde. "I've told you no every time you've asked. Someone with half a brain cell would think that meant something."

The man grunted, "Most women would do anything for a date with me."

He screamed as Eighteen pulled on his arm, a sickening pop resounding in the now empty store, "Then go bother them. In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not interested."

From the backroom, two women appeared. One with emerald green eyes and black hair the same length of Eighteen's, wearing a black blouse and white jeans, the other with flowing brown locks that fell beyond pale shoulders revealed by a shoulderless top and reached to the edge of her dark dress skirt. The two stopped mid-conversation as Eighteen's eyes met theirs. There was a small silence as the three looked at each other in silence.

The ravenette was the first to break it, "If I look on the cameras, will this be considered self-defense?"

"Probably," the blond shrugged.

"Carry on then," the woman said with a wave of her hand.

"Melody!" Eighteen's co-worker shouted, before turning her gaze back to the blond. "You can't brutalize our customers, Eighteen!"

"I haven't," the man mumbled something under his breath. There were a crack and another scream. "Yet. Also, I don't think he counts as a customer."

"More of a stalker," Melody assisted.

There were no more words shared as the trio continued to look at each other, though their manager did look amused.

Eighteen released the man with a sigh, shoving him towards the exit leading out to the mall with her foot. "Get out of here, and don't bother me again."

He stumbled and turned to face her. His face red with anger and probably more than a little embarrassment, "You'll regret this," were his parting words as he left, massaging the arm the blonde had considered removing.

Eighteen rolled her eyes at the empty threat. She was a modified human, designed to kill a man who had taken out the Red Ribbon Army. What could what one no-name possibly do?

"You know," Melody spoke up, becoming the focus of the other two's attention. "I don't think we ever got his name."

That -was true. Despite all the time the guy had shown up, Eighteen couldn't remember who he was. She was sure he had given his name at least once, but she had never committed it to memory.

The brunette pinched the bridge of her nose, "All this time, no one ever thought to get that guy's name? He's been harassing our friend!" she turned to the blonde. "And aren't you worried? He threatened you."

Eighteen shrugged. She doubted the man would ever try anything, and if he did, his life would come to an end—nothing to concern herself over.

"There you have it, Olyvia," Melody grinned. "Eighteen can take care of herself, so there's no need to worry."

"That's so irresponsible..."

The entry alarm's chiming sound had Eighteen putting on a smile and turning to face whoever had walked into the store. The familiar figure of a fellow blonde filled her vision. Hair shorter than the android's own, adorn in a green tube top and jeans.

"Hey, everyone," she greeted. The teen girl received a _"Hey"_ and a polite _"Hello Erasa"_ from Melody and Olyvia. "I just saw your stalker, Eighteen. He was holding his arm and talking to himself."

Eighteen filled her in on what had happened just moments ago. Afterward, Olyvia asked if Erasa had ever thought to get his name, who responded negatively, much to the brunette's ire and the ravenette's amusement.

"Why are you here, anyway?" Eighteen asked the younger girl. "Don't you have school?"

Erasa shook her head, "Of course not. Today's Hercule Day."

"Hercule -what?"

"Hercule Day! You know, the day when Hercule Satan saved the world from that monster Cell."

Melody asked from behind the android, "Didn't we explain this to you last year?"

Eighteen thought back on it, and indeed they had. It just seemed so foolish, though. That buffoon hadn't beaten Cell. She had seen him once when he gave a public speech and didn't think much of him. He might have been strong for a human, but she knew several that were stronger. Even the weakest could trample over him. Yamcha would have no problem. That perverted old man wouldn't even break a sweat. And Krillin-

Krillin.

The name made her heart sink. It had been several months since their argument. A stupid, petty squabble that had him leaving her, and her leaving Kame House. She quickly found an apartment, as she already been working for the clothing store inside Satan Mall before reuniting with him after a year. It was a nice place, but it was empty. Cold. And ever since, the nightmares had become worse.

She returned from her thoughts at the sound of her phone's alarm. A signal that her shift had come to an end. As the woman took out the device to silence it, she noticed she had a text. The sender was Bulma Briefs.

_Hey. Just letting you know you're still invited to the party today. I hope you can come! We're friends, after all!_

Still invited to their get together to celebrate the day Cell defeated. Not Hercule's defeat of the monster, but Gohan's. And _he_ would be there too.

Great...

* * *

The party at Bulma's had been what Gohan expected, as the sky took on a dark orangish hue of evening. All of Earth's greatest defenders gathered in one spot. Krillin, Yamcha, and Tien were huddled together, the former two laughing at something the triclops had said. Over Tien's shoulder was Chiaotzu, a constant presence for the taller man. Gohan's mom and Bulma were in their own small group as well. Piccolo had stopped by shortly but left after short conversation with the eldest half-Saiyan. A proud look from his mentor and a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Piccolo was good at reading him, and while Gohan was usually pretty lively at Bulma's get-togethers, he just wasn't all there today.

Despite Goten and Trunk's many attempts to pull him out of whatever funk he was in. Mostly by getting him to play some kind of hide-and-seek or game of tag. The fact Gohan used ki sensing to find the boys would forever be his secret. To them, the teen was just that good.

Off to himself, as always, was Vegeta. The Saiyan Prince had challenged Gohan to a spar when he and his family had first arrived. The teen was about to accept, eager to get out of his own mind until Bulma shut the idea down. She had told them that today was for celebrating and relaxation -that they could spar any day of the week. Not untrue, but Gohan needed an outlet. He expected Vegeta to raise a fuss, telling them about his royal lineage and how an earth woman couldn't make demands of him. Instead, the man had huffed but said nothing as he walked away.

The last of the solo trinity was, to Gohan's surprise, Android Eighteen. Sure, she had spoken to Chi-Chi and Bulma when they approached her, but otherwise stayed to herself. Not even once approaching the monk, who had been letting his hair grow out. A stark contrast to the year prior when the two had been nearly inseparable. Sometimes she would glance over to the group Krillin was in. Their eyes would meet, then the two would look away from each other. The shorter man would laugh or say something to his group, and Eighteen would cast her eyes down.

Before Gohan could go over to talk to her, maybe find out what was wrong and see if he could help, the blonde walked over to the women of their group. She said something to them that had Bulma placing a hand on her shoulder, and Chi-Chi looked at her with concern. Eighteen shook her head at something his mom had said. The blonde took a step back and set off in flight. Gohan looked over to Krillin, who watched the woman go with a solemn look as if warring within himself to go after her. The teen saw him sigh and turn back to his conversation.

Gohan should have let it go. It must have been something to do with their relationship, and it wasn't something he needed to stick his nose into -but she looked so defeated, as defeated as he felt. Was that why he wanted to help her? Because in some way, that would be like helping himself?

There was only one way to find out.

* * *

Eighteen landed on a deserted island. The blonde knew she had been followed since she left Bulma's party. She didn't need to sense ki to know that. Was it Krillin? Had he followed after her? What would he say if they met? What would she say? Eighteen turned as she heard the figure land, surprised to see not her ex, but the hero that defeated Cell, Son Gohan.

"Is there a reason you're following me?" Straight to the point. She didn't hate him, but it wasn't as if they were close. Friends of friends were what their relationship could be equated to in kind terms. Strangers were another way of calling it.

The Saiyan rubbed the back of his head. He laughed awkwardly, "Well, I just kinda did."

Eighteen snorted, "I've already had to deal with one stalker today. I'd rather not have to do so again so soon."

She couldn't stop the grin at Gohan's appalled expression, "I'm not stalking you!"

"Then, why _did_ you follow me?"

"That's," he looked away from her. Eighteen tapped her foot impatiently. The teen sighed, "I don't know. You just looked so upset, and when Krillin didn't come after you-"

"We broke up," the blonde interrupted. "That's why I left, and he didn't come with me. Did that satisfy your curiosity?"

Gohan looked away, his expression more ashamed than angered by her outburst. "I'm sorry."

Why was he sorry? It was their problem. Her problem.

"It's fine," she told him. "Now, shouldn't you be getting back to Bulma's? You're the star of that show, aren't you?"

He turned from her, his gaze cast out over the ocean, "I... I don't want to be there right now."

Eighteen forced back a sigh. Was that what this was? His concern for her was an excuse to get away. Could she leave him here? The answer was yes, she could. But her mouth opened despite that. "And why is that."

Gohan lowered himself on the ground, his legs spread out and his arms planted on the ground. "I guess it just doesn't feel right. _I_ don't feel right."

Oh, great, now she had to play therapist. "Why today?" she asked. "What's so different about today than any other?"

"Today's the day I let my dad die," he told her.

Eighteen rolled her eyes. Was that what this was about? "Yea, and the day you killed Cell and saved the world. I don't think your old man is going to hate you for that."

He chuckled at her. "No, he wouldn't."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I... Well, I've had these nightmares since after the Cell Games," and didn't that feel familiar. "Not as much anymore, but some nights they come back."

"And they're horrible," she finished for him. Waking up screaming, desperately calling for help, shivering from the cold sweat that covered her body. She'd have to look around, to remember where she was. To make sure she was no longer strapped to that lab table.

He nodded, "I'm back at the Cell Games. I let everyone get hurt because I didn't want to fight -even letting my father die in vain when I wouldn't finish the fight. And then Trunks died. None of that would have happened if I had just fought from the beginning."

"Yea, probably," she told him, taking a seat next to him. "If you had fought from the very beginning, maybe none of that would have happened. But I'm glad you didn't."

Gohan looked over to her, shocked, "What?!"

"If you did, then I would have died," she told him. "I was inside Cell. And I was told it was you that got me out. I never thanked you for that, did I?" Blue-Grey eyes looked into wide black orbs. "Thank you, Gohan. For saving my life."

The Saiyan rubbed the back of his head, face blushing as he looked away, "Don't mention it. We would have brought you back with the Dragon Balls."

"Like you did Trunks, the guy you let die? Or my brother, who was still in Cell when he was killed?" Eighteen shook her head at the ridiculousness of Gohan's thoughts. "You're blaming yourself for letting others die, but it's not like you abandoned them. Maybe you didn't stop them from dying, but you did save them in the end."

"But my dad-"

"Chose not to come back," she interrupted. "That was his choice."

Gohan was silent, and Eighteen let it be. It was sad in a way. A hero was someone who stood above everyone else as a symbol of hope. But what happens when that symbol loses its own? The hero was expected to save everyone else, but who saved them?

Now, apparently, it was the monster—a lab experiment created to be unleashed on an unsuspecting world, programmed to kill and destroy.

"Thanks, Eighteen," Gohan broke her out of her thoughts. "I know it wasn't right to put all of this on you, especially since you have your own problems. But I feel a lot better after talking to you."

The blonde waved off his thanks as they both stood, "Just get going already. Don't want to make the rest panic, do you?"

He laughed, "I guess not." He continued to smile as he met her gaze, "But I mean it. Thank you for helping me. I know we're not close, but if you ever need anything, just tell me."

Did she need anything? Several things, actually. Her humanity for one. Feeling as if she was more than some weapon.

"Anything?" she whispered.

He nodded, with a grin still on his face. The blonde stepped up towards him, placing a hand on his chest. She could feel the rhythmic beating of his heart under his baggy shirt. Her's beat much the same. Not a hero's, and not a monster's. But a person's. Gohan was looking at her confused, head tilted to the side. Amusing in a naive way. She raised her body, her lips meeting his. Tasting the hero and finding she enjoyed it. Pure and innocent. Not tainted like herself.

He stumbled back, eyes wide, and a hand up to his mouth, "What are you doing?"

She missed the warmth already. The comfort another person brought to a lonely woman, "Calling in your favor."

"For a kiss?"

Eighteen shook her head as she moved to be closer to him. The blonde saw him swallow; his blushing face lit up under the setting sun. He backed up again, "Eighteen. We shouldn't."

"No, we probably shouldn't," Eighteen agreed. "It's a bad idea. One of my own that I can remember having. Not a mission implanted in me. Not use as a weapon. But my own selfish idiotic idea." She laughed at herself, "And it's even more horrible that I don't have any feelings for you."

"Then, why?"

Once again they stood toe-to-toe, he had stopped trying to avoid her, "Because I want to be more than what I am. A machine set to kill someone I never knew for the revenge of my abductor. A piece for a being to be complete. A monster that only destroys."

"There are other ways than this." Gohan reasoned.

Once again, she agreed with him, "There is. I've made friends outside your group." Chi-Chi and Bulma were great in their way, but it always felt like they only put up with her since she was dating Krillin. Of course, she knew better now but having Melody, Olyvia, and Erasa was different. Those bonds were from her own making, or at least _their_ persistence. But it was always missing something.

Eyes of a stormy sky, reflecting the tempest inside her, stared deep into anxious onyx. His lips brushed against hers, sending a shiver down her body, "You don't have too. I won't force you. Even if I would, I couldn't."

Eighteen rested a hand on his cheek, a sign that she wouldn't hold on. She could easily be pushed back. "Just say no, Gohan."

The blonde heard him swallow again. Nervous. And then he leaned into her. A chaste kiss deepened as they melted into each other. Eighteen knew this was a selfish act—a desperate one. But for tonight, just for one night.

She, too, would rely on the hero.

* * *

**And there we have it. I'm actually pleased with how this came out, unlike the first two chapters I had of this story. Any new readers won't have seen them, but they were lazily thought out and poorly written.**

**Until next time.**


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